The Journal's Contents
by DovahFinn
Summary: Dan's family is having troubles with accepting that he's bi. But when his Dad pushes Dan a bit too far, what will he fall back on? (PHANfiction)


**A/N: Hiiii. Okay, so this was like my first Phanfiction ever and it's horribly written and it's really cheesy and cliche and I hate it, but I can't bring myself to take it down, seeing as it was the first thing I ever posted on here. Please don't judge me for this, I had no idea what I was doing. -sits in corner of shame-**

Dan sighed and rolled over, spying the bright neon clock on his bedside table with ease. 3:24 AM. Dan groaned and shifted back over, covering his face with his pillow and willing himself to sleep. Needless to say, it didn't happen. After what seemed like an eternity of tossing and turning, he finally gave up his futile attempts to sleep and got up, tottering into the living room and onto the balcony. He closed the slider door behind him and stepped forward, leaning on the rail and sighing as the predawn wind rustled his messy brown hair. He looked at the still-dark sky and sighed, thinking about, well.. everything. About how when he'd told his family he was bisexual they practically exiled him. About how his father had made a point of coming over uninvited while Phil was home to have a loud, yelling conversation that Phil could hear every word of. About how he was sure that he loved Phil, but Phil was, well.. straight. He hadn't really cared when Dan had told him he was bi, he just smiled and asked why Dan was acting so nervous. A ghost of a smile flickered across his features for a moment as he remembered.  
_"Dan, why are you acting so weird? Is something the matter?" Asked Phil, glancing at him across the kitchen one morning. Dan sighed. _  
_"You could say that," Dan replied evasively. He grabbed the milk from the refrigerator and poured it over his bowl of Shreddies, replacing the milk and taking his bowl into the living room. Phil followed close behind, obviously troubled. _  
_"Well.. what is it? We're flatmates AND best mates, Dan! I want to know this stuff!" he pushed. Dan sighed and sat on the couch, having an awkward staring contest with his cereal. "Dan," Phil stated, seating himself next to him. "Tell me." Dan looked at him, and frowned slightly. _  
_"Promise not to freak out?" he asked, holding up his pinky. Phil nodded and twined his around it._  
_"Promise." Dan took a breath and returned to looking at his cereal._  
_"I'm bi," he confessed, waiting for the gasp or the disgusted look. A few seconds passed of complete silence and Dan looked up to see Phil smiling like an idiot. Dan flushed. "W-what!? Why are you smiling at me like that!?" he asked accusingly. Phil chuckled._  
_"I'm just relieved.. I thought it might be something serious, but it's just that?" He chuckled again. Dan felt a weight get lifted off of his shoulders. _  
_"So, like.. you aren't freaked out?" Dan asked, treading with caution. Phil smiled dorkily._  
_"Not one bit."_  
Dan's thoughts returned to the balcony, which was starting to get cold. Dan shivered through his thin white undershirt and the robots-in-space pj pants that he'd borrowed from Phil. He turned and opened the slider once again and let himself inside, closing and locking it behind him lest Phil go on another sleep-adventure throughout the flat. He glanced around, searching for something to do. It was three in the morning, they had no sleeping medication, and it was too late and too dangerous to go get some from Tesco now. He couldn't risk doing anything too loud, in case he woke up Phil, which greatly narrowed his options. He couldn't call anybody, everyone was asleep. Dan put his hands on his face, sighing grumpily. This had been happening every other night for a least a month now- ever since he'd told his family about his sexuality. He shook his head and grabbed a book to read, getting comfortable on the couch and losing himself in a fantasy world.

Phil rolled groggily out of bed and checked his clock; 9:38 AM. _Dan's probably still asleep_, he thought, trudging out of his room and into the living area. He looked puzzledly at the couch, where lied a sleeping Dan with a chapter book opened over his face, shielding him from the morning sun. Phil smiled, half amused, half confused. He walked over quietly and took the book from Dan's sleeping face, marking his spot and setting it on the end table. He quietly tiptoed back into his own room and brought out his quilt, draping it over Dan and hoping he hadn't been cold all night. _Dan's seemed so upset about something lately_, thought Phil, _but he looks so peaceful and, well.. cute when he sleeps. Like a baby_. He smiled and returned to the kitchen to start making breakfast.  
The bacon sizzled in the pan as Phil gently tried sliding it out onto the plate- the finishing touch to an edible-looking breakfast. Phil stood back and smiled, admiring his handiwork. Before him sat two plates of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast- one for him and one for Dan. He glanced over to the couch as he heard Dan shifting, just in time to see him stand up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. For a moment, just a moment, he looked to be in a good mood, then the look set in again. The skin around his eyes appeared taut, his shoulders tensed, his gaze slightly downward and his movements slow. Most people wouldn't notice, but living with Dan had taught Phil a few things- like when he thinks you're not looking, he stares into space, and how he laughs louder than usual, smiles bigger, or even seems most upbeat- All are signs of a problem. Phil smiled at him and gestured to the plates.  
"I made an edible-looking breakfast!" said Phil, obviously proud. Dan grinned and walked over.  
"Bacon. This breakfast is deemed worthy," he declared, putting his hand on Phil's head and ruffling his hair. Phil hummed happily. Dan took a plate and walked into the living room, Phil on his heels. Dan was a bit surprised at Phil's decision to sit next to him on the couch- he usually sat across the room from him. Nevertheless, they both put their feet up on the table and ate in a comfortable silence. Phil was slightly bothered by the fact that he could tell Dan was intentionally keeping from conversing with him, but he wasn't going to bother him if he didn't want to be bothered. Dan's ringtone chimed through the living room, shaking both of them from their stupor. Dan set his plate on the table and picked it up, a dark shadow distorting his features. Phil had an idea of who it was. Dan stood up, answering his phone but not putting it up to his ear quite yet. "I'll be right back.." he said to Phil, walking out onto the balcony and closing the door(And curtains) behind himself. Phil looked on worriedly. The last time Dan had talked to his father, it hadn't ended prettily.

Dan felt his heart stop for a moment when he saw his Dad's name light up on his cellphone screen. He stood and answered it, covering the microphone with a finger.  
"I'll be.. right back," he said to Phil, who seemed to know what was going on. Dan walked out onto the balcony, closing the door and curtains behind him. He took a seat and brought the phone up to his ear. "Hello?" he asked. For a second there was so answer. Then, an older man's voice sounded from the other end.  
"What is this I hear about you dropping out of college!?" yelled his Dad. Dan grimaced.  
"I dropped out. I was too stressed out and felt I wasn't ready for it," he replied with a level head. He could just imagine the vein throbbing in his father's forehead. Dan knew he was in for it, even if he was an independent adult and his father couldn't exactly punish him anymore.  
"YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE- Ah! After all I've done for you- Raised you, fed you, I fucking MADE you, and what thanks do I get!? A little gay boy who drops out of college as soon as I take my eyes off of you!" Dan struggled to remain calm through the verbal assault, but something snapped inside of him.  
"Excuse me, Robert, but let me correct you- I am NOT a little 'gay boy', I am a fully grown, proudly bisexual man, and-"  
"PROUDLY! Figures you'd be proud of that- probably the only thing you CAN be proud of! You're worthless! Can't hold a relationship, can't hold good grades, CAN'T EVEN HOLD A FUCKING SPOT IN COLLEGE! I refuse to call you a son of mine! WORTHLESS!" he yelled over the phone. That hurt. He'd heard it a million times before, but it still hurt. "Now, you listen here-"  
"No, YOU fucking listen HERE, you old crotchety fucking BASTARD! I'm fucking tired of always being on the receiving end of all of your shit- I swear to you, if it was big bro that was bi you'd accept it! But no, I've always been the odd one out, the ugly fucking duckling, and I'm SICK OF IT! You take your shit elsewhere, go ahead and cry to mum for all I care, but I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT! You're a cowardly bastard that can't even accept the choices of his own son!" There was a silence.  
"You're no son of mine," his father growled. Dan felt tears running down his cheeks.  
"And you're no father either," Dan retaliated, hanging up the phone. He hastily wiped his cheeks and walked back inside, his gaze downcast. He evaded Phil's eyes and walked into his room wordlessly, locking himself in and throwing himself face-first into his pillow. He groaned and sat up, wiping his streaming eyes with the back of his hand. He saw his wrist, dotted with scars from when he used to cut himself. He remembered the euphoria that had always followed, and immediately grabbed open his drawer, reaching towards the back where he still kept his trusty razor. He'd had more, at one point, but Phil had found his stash and immediately threw them out, comforting Dan in a way that a cold piece of metal couldn't. But he didn't think even Phil could help now. Because without trying, Phil was also a big factor in Dan's awful mood. Not only was his family being verbally abusive, but the love of his life- Phil, he was embarrassed to admit- was straight. He felt the razor blade and latched onto it, pulling it out of the cluttered drawer and looking at it. He grimaced at the spots of dried blood that still clung to it, a memory of all of the other times the blade had met his skin. He grimaced and dragged it into his left wrist, hissing with slight pain but feeling the rush that he'd so missed. He looked at it and frowned, knowing what he was doing was stupid, but also knowing that he couldn't resist.  
Just one more cut. At least, that's what he told himself about three times, until there were five parallel cuts running along his left forearm. He looked from the razor to his arm, where blood was bubbling up through the cuts, and realised the gravity of what he had just done.  
"Oh nonononononononono! I told Phil I would stop! Shit!" he scolded himself, stashing the razor again and searching for something to cover his arm with. He settled for throwing on an old jumper and hoping that he wouldn't notice. He sighed and buried himself under the quilts of his bed, still feeling extremely frustrated, sad, angry- overall emotional. He poked his head up and reopened the drawer, this time pulling out a notebook with a lock on it, similar to a little girl's diary, only black and thicker. He nudged the drawer back shut and reached underneath his bed, where the key was taped to the wood of his bedframe. He pulled it out and unlocked the book, opening it and immediately grimacing inwardly. Ever since middle school, where he'd started being bullied, he'd written all of his dark feelings into here, and some of the pages even had blood on them. It was a large notebook, but even so it was more than 3/4 full of horrible retellings of encounters at school, his feelings, and more recently, his family and love life issues. He grabbed a pen and began hastily scribbling this time's report; his argument with his father, his feelings for Phil, and his horrible guilt about cutting himself again. He rested his left wrist on the paper momentarily, and was surprised to see that the blood had trickled up his sleeve and was on his hand. He looked at it, slightly frightened by the crimson red of it. He was still bleeding, losing blood. He felt tears run down his cheeks again, purely from guilt._ I can't tell him_, he thought, frightened. _He'll hate me forever_. He scribbled down two more words into the morbid journal before locking it and re-stashing it; _I'm scared_.

Phil's prediction had been right. After only a moment, he'd heard Dan start to yell, and after only about three minutes in total of him being out there, he'd run back inside and locked himself in his room wordlessly, and he had obviously been crying. He'd decided to give him a minute to cool down, but he couldn't stand waiting any longer. He wanted to be by Dan's side to help him through this; Forever and always, right? Besides, if he couldn't help Dan through his trouble with his family, he knew that he'd never be able to confess. It was practically a requirement. So, with that thought, he stood up and walked over to Dan's door, tapping on it lightly.  
"Dan? Are you okay?" he asked. A moment's silence.  
"No," came the truthful reply, "I'm not." Phil sighed sadly, the emotion in Dan's voice breaking his heart.  
"Can I come in?" asked Phil, his fingers brushing restlessly against the doorknob. Another bit of silence. Phil heard a rustling on the other side of the door, a sliding of drawers, and a finalizing thud before Dan appeared in the doorway with his head down. Phil couldn't bear it anymore. He grabbed Dan by his shoulders and pulled him close, cradling Dan against him and placing his head on Dan's shoulder. Dan just stood there, unmoving, giving Phil a pit in his stomach. _Am I going too far? Am I hugging him too tight? Does he hate me?_ He thought, his panic rising at a fast rate. Right as he opened his eyes to say something, however, he felt a tight pressure around his stomach as Dan grabbed onto him with a vice-like grip and started sobbing uncontrollably. Phil didn't know if this was better or worse. He caressed Dan's disoriented, curly brown locks, rubbing circles into his back as he whispered reassurances into his ear. He honestly didn't know what else to do. After a little bit, He got sick of standing and instead swooped Dan's legs out from under him and arranged them on Dan's bed so Phil could hold him more comfortably. Dan still refused to meet Phil's eyes, but at least his crying was coming under control. Dan burrowed himself into Phil's 'Sunnydale High' tee and remained there for a little while, calming but still shaking violently. Phil wasn't complaining.

Dan was still staring at his own blood with a horrified expression on his face when there was a knock on the door.  
"Dan? Are you okay?" asked Phil. Dan felt the bottom of his stomach drop. _Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no. He'll see. He'll know_. He was about to say 'Yes, Phil, I'm just fine,' but he knew he would never buy it.  
"No," he replied honestly. There was a very brief pause.  
"Can I come in?" asked Phil. Dan glanced around the room, panicked. He ripped open the same drawer and made sure that both the razor and book were well stashed before slamming it shut again. He grabbed some tissues from his bedside table and mopped up the blood, tossing the stained rags into the garbage bin. He wrapped three neatly around his cuts, hoping they would last until Phil left him be, and yanked his sleeve down back over them. He hoisted himself up against the shrieking protest of his mattress springs and walked over to the door. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and opened the door, focusing more on the wooden floor than his best friend standing right in front of him. He felt his heart skip a beat when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around Dan's shoulders, and it took him a moment to realize what was actually happening. He just stood there, like an idiot, for at least five seconds before he felt the dam break and he wrapped his arms around Phil in turn. He felt himself clinging on for dear life, sobbing uncontrollably into the shirt he had given Phil. Phil rubbed his back and offered him reassurances, but all that really mattered was that he was here, holding him. He felt himself shaking uncontrollably and right before his legs gave out Phil moved so fast that Dan didn't realize what he was doing until the older man was carrying him to his own bed. _Really?_ Thought Dan, feeling a bit upset. _He's just going to tuck me in and leave now?_ But no, that was far from it. Phil sat with his back against the headboard, cradling Dan in his lap to get more comfortable. Dan immediately buried his face back into Phil's chest, willing for Phil to not see the blush that had inevitably spread across his face like wildfire when he'd been picked up. He felt his own breathing begin to calm until he was just shaking slightly, head still burrowed into Phil's now-tearstained shirt.  
"Dan?" came Phil's gentle voice. Dan sighed.  
"Y-yeah?" he replied, not moving an inch.  
"You wanna talk about it? I'm all ears," offered Phil. Dan tensed a bit at the thought of sharing his problems with another person. Last time he'd done that, well.. It hadn't turned out well.  
"I-I don't know.. I don't necessarily like sharing my thoughts with others.." he mumbled.  
"And why's that?" asked Phil, stroking his 'hobbit hair'. Dan sat up, reaching into the drawer. _Dan. Stop,_ he thought to himself. _You can't show him that!_ But his body wasn't listening. He pulled out the book and grabbed the key, jamming it in the lock and flipping through the pages until he found the right spot. He made sure to do all of this quickly, quietly, and without looking at Phil. He sighed as he reread the distraught handwriting, recognizing the familiar tear (And blood) stains that dotted the page. He of course hid that from Phil.  
"J-January eighteenth, two-thousand and seven. Journal, don't get jealous, but I told somebody else my thoughts. I told Jessica. You know, my childhood friend? I know, I'm sorry, but don't worry, I'll never do it again. Know why? She ran right to Erick. She told him everything. About how I didn't want people to know I cut so I did it on my thighs, and that's the place to hit if you want to hurt me bad." At this point he subconsciously placed a protective hand over his scarred thighs. Phil looked on, seeming to be worriedly interested. "She even told him about Andrew. And guess who's now completely avoiding me? Andrew. Well, in other news, he took her advice. I have bruises all over my legs now, and not to mention the gash they put in my arm." Dan's voice was shaking and he felt the hot tears running down his face but he couldn't stop now. "Who knew the bastard started carrying knives? I hid in the old classrooms that nobody uses anymore and I sat in a cupboard for hours hiding from them. When he found me he kicked me in the face and broke my nose. Doctor says once it heals it shouldn't be noticeable. I have two black eyes and a split lip. He almost killed me. He left me in a ditch outside the school with a broken arm. The teachers still don't believe it's him. I have to go. I think I cut too deep." The silence that followed was louder than any words. Phil looked at Dan disbelievingly, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, while Dan stared at the page blankly, tears running freely down his face.

"That's why, Phil," he said. Then, in one swift movement, Dan locked the book and shoved it away, sticking the key in his pocket and walking out of the room. He retreated into the nearest room, the bathroom, and huddled himself into a corner of the bathtub, not caring that it was getting his butt wet. It was still small, and that's what he was looking for. He rested his forehead on his knees and wiped his eyes, shaking violently with subdued sobs. Phil knew that Dan had cut before. He just didn't know the extent of it. All Phil knew of were about three or four scars on his wrist from when his girlfriend had cheated on him, blamed it on him, and then brutally dumped him, spreading horrid rumors about him to all of their friends. He didn't know about the relentless bullies that he'd dealt with all through middle school and high school. He didn't know about the death-threats, the depression, the near-death experiences, the number of times he had to move due to bullies.. None of it. And Dan had liked it that way. It was a_ slightly_ touchy subject.

Dan jumped as he felt a hand touch the top of his head and looked up to see Phil crouched by the tub, looking at him with such sadness in his eyes it was enough to tear Dan in two.

"Dan... I never knew.." he mumbled, his hand still on Dan's head. Dan frowned and grabbed Phil's hand, surprising him by using it to hide his face.

"I know. I tried," he said, trying his hardest to keep his voice even. Phil frowned sadly, climbing into the tub next to him and pulling Dan into another hug.

"Why?" he asked, twining his fingers with Dan's. Dan sighed, putting his head in the crook of Phil's neck. He was silent for a little while, but Phil allowed him his time. He thought about what Dan had read to him. _So, apparently he told a girl, Jessica, about some personal stuff and she told the bully, Erick. And, what about Andrew? Did he love him?_ He felt his heart hurt at the thought. _And then.. Andrew was a homophobe? Whatever. But Dan had been cutting his thighs? And.. Oh god. I know those scars. When Dan walked into my room in his underwear to borrow some pants, I saw those scars. I just didn't question them. And, a gash in his arm? Actually.. I think I might know. But, he said that was from a dirt bike crash.._

"Phil?" Dan's voice cut across Phil's thoughts and he locked eyes with Dan.

"Y-yes?" he replied, a bit disorientated from his thoughts. Dan looked down, seeming a bit embarrassed.

"Do you.. Do you hate me?" he mumbled. Phil looked at him in shock at first, then his gaze switched to a caring one.

"Dan, I could never hate you. I.." _I love you_. Phil stopped himself when he realized what he'd almost said, blushing slightly and hoping Dan didn't notice. Dan looked at him strangely.

"You.. what?" Dan shook his head, ripping himself from Phil's grasp and standing suddenly. "S-sorry, it doesn't matter. I don't need to bother you with my dumb problems. I'll.. just go now, and you can pretend this never happened," Dan said, stepping out of the tub. Phil jumped up and quickly grabbed Dan's forearm.

"Dan, wait a minute!" Dan cringed and let out a hiss of pain. He'd grabbed him right on the cuts unknowingly. Phil released by reflex, unsure of what had caused the pain. And then he looked at his hand. There was Dan's blood, smeared across his palm. He stood and grabbed Dan's hand, forcing him to let him inspect his arm.

"Phil, no, please-" Dan begged, desperate to hide under a rock and be removed from existence. But it was too late for that. Phil had lifted his sleeve and now the bloodsoaked tissues were removed. Dan was exposed. They locked eyes and Dan fought back tears. Ten seconds of silence. Neither of them spoke, just trying to win an argument with their gazes.

"Dan," started Phil, a bit shaken up. He was still holding Dan's arm up. "I thought you said you'd stop." Dan cringed at the disappointment in his voice. _He hates me_, he thought, _he really hates me._

"I-I did, but.. I just..." he looked down in shame. "I was so overwhelmed, I didn't know what to do, and I just kind of.. did it," he finished, bracing himself for the worst. It didn't come. Instead, Phil dropped his hand and grabbed a damp washcloth, carefully cleaning up the blood from the cuts. Not a word was spoken until five minutes later, when Phil (finally) deemed them clean enough. He looked down at the cuts on his love, best mate, and flat mate's arm, and reacted by impulse- he pulled his arm up and placed a small kiss on each cut. He locked eyes with Dan and they both flushed crimson, not exactly knowing what had just occurred.

"Kissing it better," mumbled Phil, ducking down and grabbing the bandages from a drawer. Although, this was most likely to hide his ridiculous blush. _What did I just do!?_ he mentally scolded himself, wanting to take his time down there but knowing that he had to help Dan. _And now he's probably creeped out by me,_ he thought, hating himself. He grabbed the bandages and knew that he couldn't stall any longer without being suspicious, and instead rose back up and gently took Dan's arm once more, wordlessly wrapping it up and tucking the loose end to keep it on. He smiled slightly. "There, all better," he mumbled. He stashed the bandage back underneath in the cupboard then grabbed Dan by his good arm and wordlessly taking him into the living room. Dan didn't object, only followed silently. Phil pulled him down next to him on the couch, then surprised him by pulling Dan's head onto his leg, forcing him to use him as a pillow. Phil looked down at him with a serious expression. "Now, tell me why," he insisted, playing with Dan's hair. Dan sighed and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

"I'm just.. so frustrated lately.. My whole family hates me.. and, not to mention, my love life's pretty fucked up right now.. I guess that call just kinda put me over the edge," he mumbled, hoping his answer was adequate. Phil was only more confused. _Love life? He doesn't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend.. I can't think of anybody he'd have a crush on at the moment.._

"Well, your family is just surprised. They need time to realize that no matter who you love, you're still you, and that they love you, very much. And do you care to elaborate on that whole love life thing?" He asked gently, still combing through Dan's hair. Dan tensed and was silent for a minute, thinking on the situation. _If I tell him he'll hate me. If I don't he'll think I don't trust him._

"That would be.. a really, really awkward conversation.." he mumbled. Phil sighed.

"You don't have to tell me any names, just tell me what's wrong," he reasoned, concern evident in his baby blue eyes. Dan sighed.

"Fine. Well, first off, it's a guy, and I'm pretty damn sure he's straight. Other than that, he's one of my best friends, and I don't want to wreck everything by telling him and scaring him off. If I did, I'd practically have to skip town to not see him all the time and have it be awkward, we see each other at least twice a day. Besides, I have a feeling he's upset with me right now.." he trailed off, opening his eyes and looking up at Phil. Phil's head swam with thoughts. _It's a guy, that narrows it down.. One of his best friends? Well, we practically have the same group of friends. He sees him a lot? At least twice a day? What? Well, maybe it's a video chat thing..? Oh well._

"Mind if I start guessing?" Phil asked, poking Dan's nose gently. Dan made a quiet noise of discomfort in his throat and looked to the side, but after a second of thinking, he nodded.

"Knock yourself out," he groaned, shifting to get more comfortable on Phil's leg. Phil nodded.

"Chris."

"Nope."

"PJ." Dan laughed.

"Nope." This went on for a little while, Phil reciting the names of every one of their male friends he could think of. He furrowed his brows and looked down at the brunette, who was obviously proud of himself for hiding the name of his crush. A bit cocky, even.

"Is it..." Phil hesitated, not knowing if asking would make Dan get the wrong idea. Well, it would actually be the right idea, but Phil didn't want him to know that. Dan looked on expectantly, urging him to finish his sentence with his big brown eyes. "..me?" he finished. Both of the boys felt their faces flush, fearing what would happen next. Dan felt his panic rising. Shit. He guessed it. Dan sat up abruptly and stood, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Well, I think I'm gounna go take a nap! Or, uh, edit some videos! Yup yup! Seeya!" he called, walking stiffly to his room. Phil was taken aback. _Wait.. does he like me?_ He stood quickly and ran up to Dan, grabbing his good arm. Dan spun around and now Phil could see the extent of his blush.

"Dan," he said quietly, "Answer the question." Dan hesitated, knowing his face was a dead giveaway.

"Uh.. uhm.. Y-yeah. I do," he answered, staring at his feet. Phil, however, felt ten times lighter. _Dan.. fancies me? Me? Of all of the guys he could like, he likes me?_ Phil was torn out of his thoughts by Dan's voice. "C-can I go now?" he asked, looking anxiously at his bedroom door, only three feet away. Phil smiled.

"Oh, hell no," replied Phil. Dan would have given him a surprised look, but before he could react properly, he was muffled by a pair of lips over his own. Phil's lips. In an instant, Dan was wrapping his arms around Phil's neck, feeling lighter than air. They stood there for a moment before breaking apart and staring into eachother's eyes. Dan laughed.

"We're too cheesy!" he exclaimed, pressing his face onto Phil's shoulder. Phil laughed, too, resting his own head onto Dan's neck and breathing in his scent.

"I love you," mumbled Phil, feeling his face warm at the foreign words. Dan chuckled and nuzzled Phil's neck.

"I love you too, you big dork."

**A/N: I AM SORRY THAT WAS SO BAD PLEASE FORGIVE ME I SWEAR NOT EVERYTHING I WRITE IS LIKE THIS**


End file.
